Piltover's Finest: Sunday
by Aya-kun Rose
Summary: A short series about a month of Sundays. Caitlyn/Vi.
1. Chapter 1: Rain

Piltover's Finest: Rain

Another one of those rainy Sunday afternoons in Piltover, the hextech lamps flickered to life in the street despite the early hour. Their bright reflections on the pavement shattered and refracted as the Sheriff clipped through the puddles at a measured pace. Caitlyn was no fan of the rain, bundled up in her long dark traveling coat, and all she wanted was a quiet hour or two with a strong cup of tea and a good mystery novel. But she knew better than to expect to spend the remainder of the dark day in cozy tranquility, not when the storm was bound to have transfigured Vi into an entity most closely resembling a riotous inmate on lockdown.

Caitlyn put aside her differences with the inclement weather, choosing actually to focus on the rain, cold and steady, rather than on the disaster from which she had just come. Her gray day off had been interrupted that morning with a call from the head office, a black market hextech trading racket had blown up overnight, could she come down to the crime scene and have a look around? And off she had slipped, leaving Vi snuggled up in bed, dead to the world for at least a few hours more.

She wished she hadn't gone. The criminals had staged their operations back of a tumbledown restaurant in the grittiest part of the city, a greasy front for the ring's unsavory activities. The stench of the place made Caitlyn's stomach turn; the sight of the victims nearly made her retch. Bone thin street children, eager to earn a penny, had carted the shoddily-manufactured hextech weaponry from cache to customer. But the goods were cheap and flawed, ticking time bombs that were all too ready to go out in a blaze of techmaturgical glory.

Warped by magic and torn by shrapnel, the remains of the unfortunate young gun-runners lay amid the rain-soaked rubble. This one might have been a girl, Caitlyn had thought in passing, holding a handkerchief to her face as she surveyed the scene with clinical eyes. Soon enough she had scavenged sufficient data from the wreckage to direct the men towards one of the gang's two remaining hiding places, deduced the identity of the crooked engineer, and routed out a snitch from within the department's own ranks.

Easy work for the detective, but never pleasant.

Now, even though the wind blustered and bit, the rain gradually pounded the lingering odor from her clothes. She had calculated the homeward stroll so that each step created emotional as well as physical distance. Peace of mind could often prove elusive for the intrepid sleuth, and she had learned to take what serenity she could find, even if sometimes it was found in the numbing beat of the rain.

As she rounded the last damp corner onto her street, Caitlyn finally started to feel sorted enough to face down the tempest in a teapot that surely was waiting for her at home. Vi was probably clawing at the walls on a day like this, a shrieking kettle about to boil over.

Damn, Caitlyn needed a bloody cup of tea.

Taking one last deep breath of misty Piltover air, tasting of ozone and hextech exhaust, Caitlyn steeled herself and unlocked the front door.

She was met with silence, or rather, with the muted sound of rain on the eaves and nothing more. Caitlyn stood a moment, bemused, before shedding her hat and coat and hanging them on the rack to drip quietly onto the entryway floor. She next stepped out of her boots, leaving them leaning against the wall. She would have to shine them when they had dried.

Was Vi still asleep, possibly? Caitlyn wondered, tip-toeing deeper into the house. She could see Vi trying to make the best of a day indoors by ignoring it completely. But—no, there she was, in her pajamas, definitely (a pair of violet plaid boy shorts and a black tee that had "Piltover Customs" printed across the front), sprawled out on the floor in the front room.

She had one of her gauntlets gutted on the floor with her, the other resting off to the side atop the old coffee table. Caitlyn had succumbed to the reality that no amount of wood polish and stern lecturing would keep that table scratch-free, but she sighed at the sight of it for appearance's sake.

Vi had her goggles strapped tight over her eyes, and she had all of her focus on a panel cover for one of the gauntlet's hydraulic works. Caitlyn stood at the side of the room, watching her tinker, waiting for any sign that Vi had even noticed her return.

A minute passed without so much as a "Yo, Cupcake."

Caitlyn padded off to the bedroom to stash her rifle, stopping by in the bathroom to quickly run a towel over her hair. Reappearing in the front room with fuzzy poro slippers in hand, she wrangled each of Vi's swinging legs and fitted the things over the girl's bare feet. The environmentally-friendly hextech space heater (a Heimerdinger prototype) was chugging away on hearth, so the house was a comfortable temperature, but Caitlyn hadn't bought them for Vi just so they could be kicked under the bed and forgotten.

Plus, Caitlyn thought they made her look extra cute.

For another minute or two, Caitlyn watched Vi fiddle with the metal plate. It looked as though it was designed with two tabs on either side that held it in place, but Vi was only able to get one tab in at a time. With petulant determination, she kept fitting in one tab into the slot, then jamming the other side against the gauntlet to no avail. After a few tries, she would switch to trying the other tab first. And when that didn't work, she went back to step one.

"Why don't you just smash it in?" Caitlyn asked when she could stand this madness no longer.

"I don't want to break it!" Vi barked, and switched tabs.

This from the champion who, armed with these self-same gauntlets, was known to tackle any opposition while shouting, "When you hit a wall, hit it hard!" Caitlyn kept her thoughts to herself, seeing that Vi would surely be occupied with this task for the rest of the day.

"Bless," Caitlyn said aloud, and then headed for the kitchen to put the kettle on.


	2. Chapter 2: Case Closed

Piltover's Finest: Case Closed

"Stop—stop—punching—me—please!" the hired thug pleaded between punches.

"For heaven's sake, do as the man says," Caitlyn ordered, looking up from the paperwork Heimerdinger had just given to her. "You can't beat any more information out of him than he's already supplied." She waved her sheaf of papers to emphasize the point.

Vi growled in response, winding up for another punch. The man flinched back with a little yelp unbecoming of his social status. "Who said anything about information? This is payback."

"For what?!" the thug exclaimed. "I ain't done nothin' to you, lady!"

"You wanna try calling me 'lady' one more time, huh?" Vi spat back, the bolt knuckles of her gauntlet glowing red.

"Oh my," Heimerdinger noted with some concern. "This is indeed becoming quite a situation."

Passing the dossier back down to the Yordle, Caitlyn quickly stepped over and placed a calming hand atop Vi's giant metal fist. The hextech weapon whirred under her touch. "Please," she coaxed, "I'll make it up to you."

The gauntlet twitched, like it might bust forward of its own free will. Caitlyn could see as well as feel the battle of will that was surging inside her partner, the impulse to smash just as strong as the desire not to disappoint.

"Come, now," Caitlyn said, applying a hint of downward pressure to the gauntlet under her palm, careful to leave the choice entirely up to Vi. Even as Sheriff of Piltover, Caitlyn always made it clear that she was her partner, not her boss.

Vi's bright eyes, darkened with frustration and anger, flicked over to Caitlyn, down to the thug, and back again. Then she shrugged out of Caitlyn's grasp, rocking back a step much to the battered criminal's visible relief.

"You got it, Cupcake," Vi scowled. "But if this heap of trash so much as looks at me funny—" She shuffled forward suddenly, pulling a punch that sent the thug into a panic. Caitlyn shook her head. Vi was still a work in progress, after all.

"What's rubbed her the wrong way?" Jayce asked, entering the police department's bull pen from one of the processing rooms. "I didn't think industrial espionage was particularly offensive to her."

He had his hand clamped firmly on the shoulder of another Yordle, a mean-looking fellow with a great big bushy brow and a greasy comb-over. An entrepreneur of sorts, he had come to Piltover to help himself to any and all unguarded trade secrets the Academy of Science and Progress had to offer. He was the brains, the thug (who went by Dennis) clearly the brawn. Not a bad plan, until Piltover's Finest got themselves involved and shut him down.

Caitlyn gave Vi one more quick glance to remind her to check her wild ways, before turning to the Defender of Tomorrow. "It's nothing," she said, getting a peevish _hmph_ from Vi in the background. Caitlyn sighed and leaned towards Jayce, speaking in a lowered voice, "We'd planned a special evening, that's all. It unfortunately had to make room for more pressing matters."

Jayce's face lit up with a bright grin, "Oh, a date!" He turned to Vi and jabbed a thumb at her punching bag, who at that moment was busily eyeing up both Caitlyn and Vi with slack-jawed awe. "Fella like this ruins my night out, I'd probably share my negative feelings with him, too."

Vi narrowed her eyes, not willing to be placated. "It was supposed to be a night _in_. 'We'll play cops and robbers,' she said, 'It'll be fun,' she said," Vi's voice crackled with icy sarcasm. "I didn't know _this_ was what she meant." Vi balled up one enormous fist on her hip, using the other gauntlet to wave dismissively at the police station and its activities.

Caitlyn's eyes squinted shut. Far from being embarrassed at Vi's outspokenness, she was just at wit's end with her today. It wasn't as though she had been looking forward to their quiet night together any less than Vi had. A spot of R&R was just what they both needed, but when duty called…. She sighed, fixing Jayce with a weary stare. "You are not helping."

"Perhaps it would be in the best interest of all parties concerned if we were to effect a swift close to these matters?" Heimerdinger piped up. He made to give Caitlyn the papers again, but she waved them away politely.

"I trust your findings are thorough," she told him, "If you're satisfied that all of your patents and prototypes are secured, then I believe we can go ahead and lock up these fine gentlemen. Let me just speak with the secretary about fixing a court date—"

"I would have gotten away with it!" the devious Yordle abruptly screeched, ripping free from Jayce's grip, "If it weren't for these meddling b—urrrrghhle!" The deviant folded like a rag doll over Jayce's fist, then crumpled to the floor.

Jayce carefully shifted the winded Yordle to a chair against the wall. "How's that for excessive force?" he joked.

"You gotta be kidding me," Vi said, throwing up her hands in disbelief. "So Jayce can punch bad guys but I can't? This is so unfair!"

Caitlyn pinched the bridge of her nose. "Vi. Jayce…."

"Don't worry about it, you two," Jayce said, brushing off his hands. "Heimerdinger and I have it perfectly under control here, so why don't you kids run along and enjoy yourselves? What says you, Heimerdinger?"

"I concur," Heimerdinger agreed. "Your assistance has been most satisfactory." He patted his documents and hugged them close to his chest, safe and sound.

"See? Just leave the rest to us. These jokers aren't going to cause any more trouble tonight. Isn't that so, Dennis?" He whirled on the beleaguered henchman with a brilliant smile, cracking the knuckles of his fist into his waiting palm.

"Sweet mercy, don't hit me," Dennis cried, quaking in his boots. "I'll give up my life of crime! I swear it!"

"Seriously, you're not going to yell at him for knocking that dude out?" Vi muttered to herself for everyone to hear.

Caitlyn cleared her throat, nodding her approval of Jayce's suggestion. Sidling over to Vi, she put her mouth to the Enforcer's ear and whispered something the men strained to catch.

"Alright!" Vi exclaimed, a huge grin breaking out over her face. She danced backwards a few steps, swinging a couple tight punches at the air. "See ya later, suckas! You'll never catch me alive, copper!" With that she flipped the entire department the biggest bird they had ever seen, and sprinted out the door.

"I believe that's my exit," Caitlyn announced, a highly unprofessional grin twitching across her face. "Gentlemen."

Before she could turn to follow Vi out, Jayce raised his hand with an innocent expression. "By the way, Caitlyn," he said. Putting his hand to the side of his mouth, he lowered his voice to a stage whisper, "Is it true? The fuzzy cuffs…?"

Heimerdinger coughed politely, diverting his attention to some old gum stuck under a nearby desk.

Caitlyn gave the hero of Piltover a cursory once-over, two vicious sweeps of her eyes down to his boots and back that said she was utterly unimpressed. "Keep it in your pants, Jayce."

Jayce backed off with a meek shrug. "Roger that, boss." He gave her a comic salute to show no hard feelings.

The Sheriff nodded once in return, then tipped her hat to Heimerdinger. "Professor. Dennis." Without further ado she was sashaying out the door towards her well-earned vacation.

Dennis whistled through a gap in his teeth he hadn't had the day before. "Ain't that a lucky woman," he said with fervent admiration.

Jayce laughed. "Which one?"


	3. Chapter 3: Discretionary Funds

Piltover's Finest: Discretionary Funds

"Poro Snax," Vi grumbled, skidding into a slimy, trash-strewn alley. The whirling dish antenna perched atop her left gauntlet re-oriented itself and pinged assertively. "I could eat a whole bag of Poro Snax, I'm not kidding you."

Caitlyn noted the direction which the antenna indicated, and quickened her pace, having had made the sudden turn with a sight more poise than Vi had done. "That's revolting," she commented. Surrounded by the dank, airless, moldy atmosphere of Piltover's impoverished backstreets, she found she had lost her appetite altogether.

Not Vi, though, never Vi. Her stomach rumbled audibly over the crunches and splashes of their footfalls through the murky passages that wound chaotically between the backs of tall, windowless buildings. Vaulting over a dumpster with the grace of a muddy gibbon, the Enforcer crashed down on the other side through a stack of empty wooden crates. She only stumbled half a step before she was up and running again.

"Do try to be careful," Caitlyn warned, skirting a burned pile of broken glass, "The curator won't be pleased if you wind up wrecking that artefact."

The artefact in question pipped a bright series of notes and whirled crazily on Vi's wrist. Its activity caught the full attention of the two sleuths as they slowed briefly to see where it would point next. Around and around the little dish went, a little lopsided in its elliptical rotation, until it rocked towards a definite bearing. And off they ran.

"This little gem?" Vi asked in such a way that Caitlyn was unsure whether the question was meant to be sarcastic or not. "This is an important piece of techmaturgical history, there's no way I'd let anything happen to it—oops."

Just as she was speaking, she had pulled apart a chain-link fence standing in their way, getting the little antenna caught in one of the loops as the metal snapped free. "Cupcake, can you spot me on this one?" she pleaded, the bulk of her gauntlets rendering her unable to manipulate the remains of the fence with any sort of finesse.

Caitlyn deftly pried off the entangling loops of the fence, making sure the antenna came free without mishap. "The dish aside, _I _won't be pleased if you keep on wrecking public property like this," she said shortly. She slipped through the hole in the fence, minding her hat, with Vi right behind.

"Cait, I'm just too hungry to care right now," Vi said with a weary groan. Still, she turned back to the fence and carefully caught her fingertips through the surviving links. With a heave, she smashed the two sides back together, crimping the frayed edges to mend the hole as best she could. The fence sagged in the middle, a poor representation of what a fence ought to be, but it held well enough.

She stepped back and glanced at Caitlyn over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow for her approval.

"Beautiful," Caitlyn assured her, "Now, back to the chase."

Vi's shoulders slumped, but she took Caitlyn's side as they resumed their rapid exploration of the dingy alley. "This chase would be a whole heck of a lot better if it ended at a five star restaurant." Her empty insides offered a supporting gurgle.

"The quicker we find the museum thief, the quicker we can feed you," Caitlyn replied. Sparing a side-long glance at her partner (she couldn't afford to fully turn her attention from the serious business of navigating the sketchy terrain), she examined Vi's miserable posture and felt no small amount of compassion for the girl.

"I'll take you out somewhere just as soon as we wrap this up, I promise," Caitlyn offered. "What are you in the mood for? Seafood? Buffet? Hup!" She tucked up her legs and leapt neatly over a canvas-covered mystery at speed.

"Yes, yes, and yes," Vi answered, a grateful smile tugging at her lips. "Even Poro Snax, remember?"

Caitlyn returned the smile, the thought of Vi stuffing her face with the animal treats too outrageous to entertain. "I'm sure we can do better than that. Isn't there a new Ionian place you've been wanting to try?" She glanced down to the beeping dish and took a right at the next turn.

"Sure, but –ah, I got this," Vi started, charging her fist up a moment before dashing forward to smash the rusty skeleton of a stripped vehicle out of the path. It crashed into the wall and collapsed in a cloud of rust and mold.

"Your sense of chivalry is brilliant," Caitlyn said not unkindly, squeezing with Vi through the gap left between the dead car and an utterly abandoned phone booth. Vi flashed her a cocky grin as they pressed against each other briefly. "But as you were saying, 'Sure, but' what?"

Vi shrugged, her fists opening, empty. "I do want to check it out, but I heard it was kinda pricey."

Caitlyn laughed, "Sweetie, I don't think you have to worry about that."

Again Vi just shrugged, muttering, "I guess." Caitlyn had to bite her cheek in embarrassment, forgetting as she often did that Vi's formative years had taken place under the polar opposite circumstances than had her own. But before she could say anything further, Vi's stomach growled the loudest yet and they both laughed.

"Really, I'll settle for anything," Vi pressed. "Right now I'm so hungry I could eat a – RAT!" Mid-stride she veered and dove headlong into a welcoming dumpster, just as Caitlyn took aim and fired off her 90 Caliber Net, skidding backwards on her heels and out of the blast range of the incoming cask of venom. The glass shattered, spreading a foul-smelling green liquid over the pavement, but ultimately missing them both.

Unfortunately, Caitlyn's net also missed its target, and as the two police officers righted themselves, Twitch the Plague Rat scuttled off down the alley into the darkness.

Hardly missing a beat, Caitlyn dropped to one knee, setting her sights on the fleeing criminal. "Calibrating," she said under her breath, focusing on her target…who at that moment happened to vanish into thin air. "Blast!" she swore, rising to her feet. She stepped gingerly through the bubbling puddle to the dumpster where Vi was picking trash out of her hair.

"Here," Caitlyn offered, picking a fish head off of Vi's shoulder and flicking it back into the garbage. "You alright?"

"Seafood's off the menu," Vi said, wrinkling her nose and shaking off the rest of the refuse. "Did you get him?" She clambered out of the bin, slipping a bit on the poisoned street.

"No," Caitlyn answered, helping to steady Vi with a quick hand at her elbow. "He stealthed a moment too soon, but he hasn't gotten far. You'll have to run him down. Does that dish still work?"

Vi hefted her left gauntlet, where, against all odds, the little antenna was still pointing off in the direction Twitch had taken himself. "Guess so," Vi said, impressed, "Little guy's tough!"

"Good, get after him, then," Caitlyn ordered, taking off at a jog in the opposite direction.

"Hey!" Vi called after her, "where are you going?"

"Secret mission," Caitlyn sang back with a wave, "I'll catch up!"

"Whaa—?" Vi watched Caitlyn disappear down the other end of the alley. Slightly put out, she lifted her arm and addressed the gadget wired to her gauntlet. "Looks like it's just you and me, little guy."

The antenna pinged assertively, still pointing with conviction towards the end of the alley where the rat had disappeared.

"Aw geez," Vi complained, wheeling and sprinting after Twitch, "Now you're telling me what to do, too. Don't I have all the luck."

Truth be told, she thought as she ran, keeping one eye on the dish, the act of tracking Twitch without Caitlyn or without this receiver would be next to impossible. When it came to luck, it was Twitch who demonstrated a lack thereof: among the items stolen from the Piltover Museum of the Progress of Yesterday had been the dish's mate, with the antiquated device's sole purpose being to transmit its location to the antenna now powered by Vi's left gauntlet.

The dark, narrow back streets seemed to get darker and narrower as she went, suffocating in their closeness, the glow from Vi's shield providing most of the available light. It wasn't Vi's favorite part of town, but it was a part with which she was familiar, thanks to her previous life. Deeper and deeper she went, finding she was looking at the dish less and less, relying on her instincts to guide her through the urban maze.

Tilting around one last corner, she discovered things had changed since her day. Up ahead, a magnificently graffitied brick wall cut off what she had remembered to be a through passageway. She double-checked the dish—had she taken a wrong turn on accident? There was surely no sign of Twitch in this dead-end.

"No, come on, little guy!" she cajoled, seeing that it was whirling steadily, not slowing down at all. "You can't be busted, you're tougher than that!"

"It's not broken," Caitlyn said from behind her, nearly causing Vi to jump out of her skin. "He's here."

"Holy cow, Caitlyn!" Vi yelped, spinning on her heel, "Where have you been? How did you get here so fast?"

"I followed you," the detective replied, like it was the easiest thing in the world. "On your guard now, the fun's only about to begin."

"How do you know he's here?" Vi pressed. All she could make out in the dim, murky light was cracked-paint walls and weed-choked detritus, but she trusted Caitlyn's instincts and began to scan the area carefully. "This thing's just acting crazy."

"Precisely. The radio waves are simply too close to pinpoint." Caitlyn steadied her rifle against her shoulder, turning slowly towards the mouth of the foreshortened alley. "Besides, can't you smell him?"

Vi's shoulders jumped, a little shiver of anticipation chattering down her spine. She clenched her fists and readied herself for action, eyes darting this way and that. "My bad, I thought that was just me after my dumpster dive," she grinned.

Together they swiveled until they were both fully facing the larger alley that washed out in shadowed uncertainty thirty feet in either direction. Caitlyn sniffed the air, her roving eyes coming to rest on a patch of emptiness some distance away from either one of them. Without blinking, she carefully lowered her rifle.

"Ready?" she asked, never taking her eyes from the spot.

Vi nodded, looking to where Caitlyn was looking, and though she could see nothing, she revved up for immediate action.

It happened almost too quickly for her to follow. A scraping sound, metal skipping over asphalt; a brilliant _click_ and a sturdy _snap_; a shrill squeak of anger and pain; her own voice as she howled "Nooooo!" the moment she registered all that had just occurred.

As Twitch shrieked and desperately struggled to remove himself from Caitlyn's trap, Vi's jaw hit the floor in anguish. "How long have you had that cupcake?!" she demanded, well and truly hurt.

"Sorry, sweetie," Caitlyn murmured, "You know those cupcakes are for business only."

But Vi was beside herself. "Yeah but you couldn't have taken the cupcake out for this one? I mean, the trap works just fine without it, right? Caitlyn!" She couldn't help it, tears were actually breaking out in just the corners of her eyes.

Meanwhile, the jaws of the trap had released, the stun worn off, and Twitch was slowly but surely hobbling down the alley towards freedom, swearing like a Bilgewater sailor.

Like quicksilver Caitlyn was at Vi's side, gently sliding a gloved hand to her face and brushing an apologetic kiss to the "VI" printed on her cheek. "Now, now," she cooed, "Be strong for me just a minute longer, my love. Once the rat's in the bag you can have all the cupcakes you can eat. You have my word."

As Caitlyn stepped back, she smiled as Vi's eyes flashed dangerously. The gauntlets crackled with metallic energy as Vi's fists clenched with passion. "I'm gonna get him," she growled. "I'm gonna get him, and when I do, so help me…"

"Quick as you like," Caitlyn nodded, moving away to retrieve her sprung trap. Without another word, Vi wheeled around after Twitch, powered up her fists, and dashed away like a loosed rocket.

Vi barely noted the dim scenery as she raced down the alley, her focus as precise as Caitlyn's as she zeroed in on her target. Twitch literally didn't know what hit him, as she used her empowered fists to launch him into the air before violently slamming him back down to the stone cold earth.

"That's for keeping me from my dinner!" Vi shouted as she landed, grabbing the Plague Rat by his feet and hoisting him up into the air. "And this is for ruining that beautiful cupcake!" With that she began to shake him mercilessly as he wheezed and sputtered in protest. A number of what had to be the stolen artefacts from the Museum rained to the ground at her feet, along with a small but heavy coin purse.

"Quite a haul," Caitlyn commented as she sauntered onto the scene. "You really have a gift, Twitch."

Twitch ignored the compliment, busy as he was being tossed carelessly to land with a jangle on the pavement between the Enforcer and the Sheriff. Hands free, Vi crouched and started rifling through the loot, successfully matching the dish to its transmitter.

"What do you think you're doing?" Caitlyn asked with a raised eyebrow, watching Vi rise with the coin purse in hand, stashing it in her wide belt behind her back.

"Getting even," Vi answered without shame. "This guy owes me dinner."

"What is this," Twitch whined from the ground, voice reedy and weak, "some kind of lame good cop, bad cop routine?"

"Oh!" Caitlyn said with surprise, putting her fingertip to her chin and glancing around the empty alley. "Do you see a good cop?"

Vi's grin was slow and nearly feral. She balled her fists up and bumped the knuckles against each other, throwing red sparks. "Nobody here but us _bad_ cops," she purred.

An hour later, Vi bid farewell to the little hextech dish antenna, as the boys in blue bagged and tagged the assorted gadgetry for the Museum curator to check over. Twitch had been carted off to the station for further questioning, but it seemed pretty clear that he had raided the museum in his quest to uncover a scientific method for raising ratkind to his level of awareness.

"I need a bath," Vi grumbled, dragging her feet as the pair left Piltover's alleys and headed for the bright lights of downtown. "I smell like I've been camping in the Baron pit."

"Really? I hardly notice," Caitlyn fibbed politely. "If you can bear it just a little longer, I have a detour in mind that I believe will be worth your while."

"Yeah, sure, whatever," was Vi's less than enthusiastic reply. "Lead on, partner." She waved her heavy hand listlessly towards the unknown.

"Won't take but a minute," Caitlyn promised, stepping up her pace and leaving Vi to stumble after her. True to her word, just a block later she paused outside a shop front, waiting for her longsuffering companion to catch up.

Vi trudged to her side, shoulders hunched, and peered up at the sign hanging over the door. She blinked. "This is that Ionian place," she realized, a flicker of life coming into her voice. But then her posture worsened even more. "Closes early on Sunday," she muttered.

Caitlyn chuckled, not wishing to let Vi sink any deeper into her bad mood. She grasped a hold of Vi's upper arm, pulling her tight to her side, and dragged her along round the back of the restaurant. "Have a little faith," she urged with a smile.

Vi just grunted.

Turning the corner to the back entrance, they were met with the pleasant face of an elderly Ionian woman sweeping down the steps. "Oh, Sheriff!" she exclaimed, hurriedly propping her broom against the wall, "One moment, just one moment." And with that the woman disappeared inside.

Caitlyn bumped her hip into Vi's, wondering if in her deadened state the girl would be able to put two and two together. "I called ahead," she assisted. "No seafood."

Vi took a deep breath and let out an immense sigh, leaning to rest her head on Caitlyn's shoulder. "How come you gotta be so damn perfect all the damn time?" she mused happily. Then she startled, feeling Caitlyn's hand travel down the small of her back. "Not complaining, Cupcake, but this is sort of a public… oh."

A cheeky grin firmly in place, Caitlyn withdrew her hand from Vi's belt, stealing back the little pouch of gold which had so recently belonged to a certain thief.

"I know I said he owed me dinner," Vi said slowly, having had actually intended to turn in the money to the cops until it slipped her mind, "but I don't want to you break any rules or whatever."

Caitlyn just winked, giving Vi a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "You are a terrible influence," she admitted, strolling off to pay the little old woman who had reappeared with their dinner.


	4. Chapter 4: In Recognition

Piltover's Finest: In Recognition

Caught in the act, red-handed, _in flagrante delicto_, Vi froze deer-in-the-headlights style, still clutching the damning evidence in a fear-locked grip of death. For a brittle, shocked second, she didn't even breathe, unable to do anything other than cringe under the Sheriff's persecuting scowl.

In the next second, Vi gathered her wits and went full-bore puppy dog eyes, cuddling the pilfered cupcake to her chest. "Pleeeeeeease?" she begged, batting her eyelashes from under her bubblegum bangs. If her motto weren't already "Punch first, ask questions while punching," it would have been "I'm too cute to lose!"

"Just. One," Caitlyn consented, resuming her task of carrying the last batch of cupcakes to the island countertop, kicking the oven door closed behind her. "Or you'll ruin your lunch—" she glanced at the kitchen clock while speaking, and, seeing that it was nearly high noon "—or should I say breakfast?"

"Whaff do you fffink fithh ithh?" Vi gurgled around the entire cupcake she had summarily shoved in her mouth. She gave the empty wrapper a vigorous shake for emphasis, dusting the kitchen tile with red velvet crumbs.

"I should have guessed," Caitlyn shook her head, starting to transfer the fresh cupcakes to the cooling rack, using the tips of her oven mitts to lift the confections from the pan. She let Vi off with just a look as her partner augmented her breakfast of champions with a finger-scoop of icing from the big pink bowl.

"There's fresh coffee," Caitlyn added, pulling the icing bowl back out of Vi's reach before she could help herself to a second serving. "And you can have as much of _that_ as you can stand."

"Whoo, coffee time!" Vi cheered, capering around the island to where the coffee pot stood, alongside a mug that Caitlyn had laid out for her. She whistled some nonsense tune as she filled the mug just halfway, saving the remaining space for a strong dose of cream from the jug that also happened to be standing by.

As Vi puttered about with the coffee, Caitlyn scooped up the de-cupcaked pan and headed for the sink. "Hot pan on your six," she warned, holding it to the far side in case Vi decided to make any sudden moves with or without looking first. But Vi just leaned back against the countertop, slurping her coffee-flavored cream, and watched Caitlyn deposit the pan in the sink.

"You should wear this for me more often, Cupcake," Vi told her. Off Caitlyn's skeptical look she decamped from the counter and came sailing around to Caitlyn's side. Hooking an arm over the Sheriff's shoulder, Vi plucked at the strap that secured the apron around her neck. The apron was a frilly, pastel affair, dotted with minute flowers and rabbits, but Caitlyn wore it regularly and without irony when she dealt with kitchen business.

"You're not serious?" Caitlyn wondered, settling back into said business of readying cupcakes for traps, hampered slightly by the clinger-on.

"Aw _yeah_," Vi insisted. "I keep thinking of you as a lonely little housewife, all by herself all day, ready for any old villain to just come right along and rob you of your pearls and your virtue. And by villain I mean yours truly." She waggled her eyebrows suggestively, releasing a little snicker into the side of Caitlyn's neck.

Caitlyn shook off the idea and Vi with a toss of her head, still harboring the suspicion that Vi was putting her on. "Lucky for me, then, that I have neither to steal." Seeing Vi's pout at being shrugged off, she tilted her cheek towards her partner as a peace offering, and received a sloppy, sugary smooch for her troubles.

Vi chortled and danced to a safe distance, slurping her coffee from around the far side of the island. Caitlyn grimaced and wiped her face with the back of her rabbits-and-flowers oven mitt. "Seriously?" she asked again, flapping her over-sized, pastel hands, "This strikes your fancy?" She stood there in the silly trappings of a homemaker, barefoot, not yet made up, her hair pulled back with a simple clip, and was pleasantly thrilled to see Vi examining her with a thorough and heated gaze.

"What can I say?" Vi shrugged, ducking into her coffee once more, "You give a girl ideas."

The kitchen fell into a contemplative silence, the only sounds being the steady ticking of the clock, the rustle of Caitlyn's apron as she returned to her work, and the errant squeak of Vi's shoe butting against the kickboard. Caitlyn's quiet smile lingered as a general sense of well-being settled over her.

Tugging off the oven mitts, Caitlyn took up the icing bowl and gave the sticky mess a quick stir. "I'll be done with these shortly," she said, "did you want to grab a bite to eat soon? A proper meal, that is."

Vi drained her coffee mug before answering. "Nah, it's okay, Cait," she said, sliding the empty mug across the island, "You've got work stuff to do, so I was just gonna run down to the garage and hang out with the guys for a little bit."

This news took Caitlyn by surprise, but she made no show of it as Vi reached down and hefted her ratty blue duffel bag. The infamous gauntlets clanked against each other, encased precariously by old canvas secured with an aging zipper. It was now that Caitlyn noticed that Vi was fully dressed and ready to roll out the door, a rather unusual sight for a Sunday morning.

"The guys, huh?" she managed, trying to sound interested instead of disappointed, tapping the spoon not quite viciously on the rim of the bowl.

But Vi seemed to be a step ahead of her in more ways than one, correctly interpreting Caitlyn's terse response for what it was. She tilted her head and offered Caitlyn an apologetic smile. "I'll only be gone an hour or two, Cupcake. I've just got a project to wrap up and Corki said he'd lend me a hand with it. So I'll get out of your hair so you can finish your important business," at this she swept her arm wide to indicate the cupcake assembly process, "and on my way back I'll lift a bottle of the good stuff and then we'll celebrate. Scout's honor."

Despite herself, Caitlyn had to admit that Vi's untraditional rendition of the customary yordle salute was not without its charm. Pressing a purple-lacquered fingertip to her lips, she suppressed an amused smile. "Well then. I can't argue with the good stuff, now can I?"

"Hey, what about meee?" Vi whined, dropping her duffel to the floor with a loud clang, leaning forward over the island with her best I'm-too-cute-to-lose face.

"I can argue with you as much as I please," Caitlyn returned, using her lightning quick reflexes to apply a dab of icing to the tip of Vi's nose. As Vi screeched like a wraith and reared away, Caitlyn coolly took up her tools of the trade and set about frosting her topless treats.

Taken aback but a moment, Vi flicked her hand across her nose. Sucking the sugar from the heel of her palm, she leaned sideways and scooped up her bag, heaving it onto her shoulder. She straightened again, sparing a moment to watch Caitlyn pile icing over the top of a cupcake, shaping the fluffy topping to perfection.

The amount of painstaking effort that Caitlyn put into these things stupefied Vi. Did they all need to be picture perfect, when in the end some wayward lunk was just going to smash their foot into them? Vi would never understand it, never ever. "Don't have too much fun without me," Vi said, scratching her head.

Caitlyn added one last careful swirl to the icing before looking up. "Take care, dear. Send my best wishes to the garage."

Vi acknowledged her with a flippant salute, and then was tripping out of the room, bag in tow. After a moment, the front door slammed closed.

The kitchen drifted into ponderous stillness, the ticking of the clock now seeming twice as loud as if it were struggling to fill the Vi-shaped void. While Caitlyn did prefer to tailor a tranquil environment in which to work, it never felt quite as form fitting after Vi had ripped through it. Even though there were days when Vi's spirited belligerence made Caitlyn want to put her boot through a wall, there were days when Vi's thoughts and behaviors were nothing but pleasant surprises, and Caitlyn couldn't help but feel ultimately blessed for having Vi in her life.

"Yo, Cupcake," Vi called, rushing back into the kitchen. Caitlyn jerked in surprise – she certainly would have heard Vi re-entering the house – causing the frosted top of the cupcake she was holding to slop off into the bowl. She grit her teeth and glared daggers up at her wonderful partner, who was wearing a decidedly devilish grin. "Oops, sorry," she said, a bold faced lie.

"Did you forget something?" Caitlyn asked with forced politesse, scraping off the remnants of her handiwork to start from the beginning.

"Yep," Vi answered, bee-lining for Caitlyn around the island. And before Caitlyn could really even prepare herself, any pseudo-malignant thoughts she had for Vi at the moment dissipated like clouds on a sunny day as the Enforcer placed two fingers under her chin and softly kissed her frown into oblivion.

Violet eyes blazed with humor, admiration, and something even a touch more intimate. Vi broke away only to follow up with a fond peck on Caitlyn's cheek. "Happy anniversary, Cupcake."

* * *

The old grandfather clock in the front room struck five.

Caitlyn blinked up from her book, counting the bells. When the last ring faded away, she frowned. Closing the book with a snap, she rose from her armchair and tucked the novel under her arm, gathering up the tea tray that sat on the side table. She was going to bite her tongue the next time she wanted a little peace and quiet, five hours straight with no interruptions and she had run out of things to do.

She wondered what was keeping Vi. Actually, she didn't wonder _what_ it was so much as _why_ Vi would choose today of all days to spend tooling around at the customs shop. The fact that "an hour or two" with the mechanics had evolved into "all afternoon" would have hardly surprised Caitlyn any other day, but today she had assumed that Vi would have tried to expedite her return.

Clearly, she had assumed wrong. Caitlyn rolled her stiff neck as she emptied her tea things into the sink, debating with herself whether or not to call down to the shop. Maybe Vi had just lost track of time, tinkering with some new gadget or tool. Maybe Corki had launched into one of his piece-by-piece tours of the ROFL Copter, and Vi was in dire need of an excuse to escape.

Caitlyn smiled at the image of Vi pulling her hair out as Corki enumerated the qualities of the particular alloy blend they used for the fuselage. On second thought, maybe she'd leave Vi to her fate.

Even so, the washing up was finished in the space of three minutes, and as Caitlyn dried her hands, she realized she was back at square one with nothing left to do and still no sign of Vi. With an inward sigh, Caitlyn lifted the kitchen phone off the cradle and dialed Piltover Customs.

"Yello!" Corki's voice crackled over the line. "You've reached Papa Charlie."

"And the total of people who've hung up thinking they've got the wrong number?" Caitlyn asked, out of habit.

A snorting chortle greeted her ear. "Why hey there, Sheriff," the yordle drawled, "what ken I do ya fer?"

"Hello, Corki," Caitlyn said amiably, harboring a secret affection for the Daring Bombardier. "I was just ringing you up to check in on that ne'er-do-well partner of mine. I imagine she's knee deep in some engine or other?"

The line was silent an over-long moment, nothing but the static of the wire to tell her that the connection was still open. "Corki?"

The little daredevil cleared his throat, and when he spoke it was at double speed. "No, well, y'see, not today, Sheriff. Haven't spotted hide nor hair of the lil' rapscallion all day, have we, boys? Ha-ha! No sirree, won't find Vi here today. Sorry, Sheriff, don't know what to tell ya."

Caitlyn's brow furrowed. What was the act all about? Before she could insist he tell her the truth, he sputtered on: "A-ha! The po-leese station! I reckon that sounds like the place she'd be. Bye, now!" And then he hung up.

The receiver blared a dull tone into her ear, telling Caitlyn in no uncertain terms that the conversation was over. Not quite sure what to make of it, she replaced the handset on the hook and turned, nonplused, to the empty kitchen. The clocked ticked busily, offering no answers. 5:09.

What could Vi be up to that had sent Corki into convulsions trying to deny her presence at the garage? Corki was as honorable as they came, and Caitlyn would be hard-pressed to recall any time where he had lied to her or had been even slightly withholding. Was he covering for Vi, as if there were something she didn't want Caitlyn to know about? Vi, on the other hand, couldn't be called honorable in the classic sense, yet in most respects she was an open book; one could read her every thought and emotion on her face. There was hardly anything she kept under wraps, and nothing she hid from Caitlyn.

Or, Caitlyn reasoned, Corki thought Vi was playing hooky, and was simply attempting to keep his friend from landing herself in hot water with the Sherriff. Not that Vi was known to skive off work, but recently the business of policing the city-state had seemed kick up a notch, requiring more of their attention than usual. A true day off had become a rarity, meaning finding time to themselves was hard enough, and trying to find time to spend together required obscene effort.

And maybe Vi was just taking advantage of a well-earned break, blowing off steam in the relaxed atmosphere of the grimy, oil-splattered garage, talking trash with the guys and letting her cares drift away as she focused on the complex wiring of some new hextech toy. Caitlyn couldn't begrudge her this, not when she felt just as strongly the need to sit back in silence with a hot cup of strong tea for an hour or two.

But she had already had her fill of silence, and the hour or two had elapsed into five and a half, and Caitlyn hushed a tender pang of disappointment in remembering how she had originally hoped to spend the entire day with Vi, Piltover be damned.

Taking a deep breath, Caitlyn straightened her posture and gave the kitchen a quick inspection. Nothing more to be done here. Dredging her workday list for tasks she had intended to put off until tomorrow, she decided to keep busy until Vi returned. She hadn't greased the traps yet, after all, so she headed for the work room to take her mind off her troubles.

The basement room was cool and faintly earthy, the familiar shapes of the cabinets and tools taking color as Caitlyn pulled on the chain to light the cluttered space. Crossing to the heavy trunk against the far wall, she spun the combination lock and heaved the lid open. Waiting patiently for their next victim were the two dozen steel traps she used to reveal enemies and keep suspects from escaping.

"Hello, my pretties," Caitlyn cooed, reaching in to lift them by the chain upon which they were strung. They glittered and clinked together as she carried them to the work table, deadly trinkets on a sash of danger. Vi wasn't the only one in this house who got to play with toys.

Laying the traps out for examination, however, brought another mystery to Caitlyn's attention. She counted again, and sure enough, the chain held only twenty-three of the devices. It wasn't that Caitlyn was particularly uptight about having a specific number of traps, but two dozen was perfect for a batch of cupcakes and she hated to be wasteful.

She put a fist to her hip, trying to think where the last one had gone. Perhaps she had mislaid it at the station, after some late-night sting from which Vi had had to drag her home. Speaking of which, a faint twinge of curiosity hit her as she remembered Corki's suggestion that her absent partner could be found at just that location.

Best case scenario: two birds with one stone, Caitlyn thought as she mounted the stairs to ascend into the house. And worst case…well, she couldn't know any _less_ than she already did, right?

Entering the kitchen once more, Caitlyn reached for the phone and dialed the number for the station's front desk. After a few rings, a woman's voice answered.

"Piltover Police Department, Sergeant Marjorie Beckham speaking."

"Good evening, Sergeant," Caitlyn responded with her commander-of-men attitude she used with her personnel, "How fares the day?"

"Well, Sheriff," was the short reply. From experience, Caitlyn knew there would be no further qualification to the pronouncement.

Unlike with Corki, Caitlyn shared no good-will with her Sergeant. No ill-will, either, merely pure and simple professionalism. "I'm glad to hear it. Have you, by any chance, happened across a misplaced trap? I appear to be short one."

"No, Sheriff."

Caitlyn screwed up her mouth, thinking. Where could she have left it? "You'll let me know if one turns up?"

"Yes, Sheriff."

Not particularly loving this conversation, but not quite ready to give up, Caitlyn hesitated a moment before asking, as casually as she could, "Has Vi been in the office today?"

"Yes." The answer was as rapid fire as any previous one had been, but this time there was a distinct chilliness to the Sergeant's tone.

Caitlyn literally held the receiver out and looked at it in surprise. Hastily returning it to her ear, she asked, "Oh has she? Is she still there?"

"No, Sheriff." This time, blatant relief.

Already Caitlyn was trying to assimilate this new information into a cohesive whole, going silent as she pulled all the pieces front and center. Her attention thus diverted, she belatedly remembered to bring the call to a close. "Oh. Well, thank you, Marjorie, for your time. Carry on. Sergeant."

"Sheriff," came the affirmative reply, and then the line disconnected.

Feeling a rather eerie sense of deja vu, Caitlyn turned to face the empty kitchen, made somehow – impossibly – more uncertain by that call than the one before. While there was no reason why Vi couldn't have made an appearance at both places, the mystery remained that someone had failed to give Caitlyn the full truth.

If Vi had gone to Piltover Customs and then the police station, why would Corki have lied that she had never shown up at the former? If she had gone to the police station, only arriving at the shop after Caitlyn's call, then where was she for the first five hours? And if she had never intended to go to the garage at all, had she been lying this morning when she announced her destination?

Suddenly Caitlyn felt very tired. She returned the handset to the hook and then crossed to the kitchen table, pulling out a chair and settling into it with wooden resignation. She laced her fingers together and tried to clear her mind.

What she needed to do, right now, was to not treat Vi like a case to be solved. Vi was an independent adult, fully capable of conducting her business in the manner she liked. Furthermore, she was free to come and go as she pleased, if a two hour trip turned into an all-day affair, by all means that was her prerogative.

But even as she told herself this, repeatedly and quite sternly, too, Caitlyn felt hurt by Vi's mysterious absence. Vi wasn't the only one who needed a break, who needed to take a step back from work and say, "not today, thank you." But maybe the effects of the long nights and interrupted weekends didn't show as plainly on Caitlyn. Maybe, to Vi, Caitlyn was a machine, impervious to toil, industrious to a fault.

Caitlyn had been ready to put all that aside today, however, to really shelve the worries of the week and focus on the things that lately seemed to be slipping into the sidelines. But Vi, she had geared up and left, assuming that Caitlyn would be preoccupied with business as usual. What had she said, "you have important work stuff to do?"

And here she was, still in the kitchen at a quarter to six, alone. There had been no point in the last four weeks of late nights, early mornings, and hectic schedules when she had felt more miserable than she did right now.

The sound of the front door slamming shut caused her to leap up, the chair screeching back in protest, her heart a-flutter but not in a good way; her pulse racing in guilt, as though she had been apprehended in the midst of some misdeed. She was quick to retake her seat, now not at all sure how she intended to react to Vi's long awaited reappearance.

"Honey, I'm home!" Vi sang, clumping into the kitchen as if she were utterly unsurprised to find Caitlyn right where she had left her hours ago. She was all smiles, toting her duffle in one hand, a cardboard box in the other, with a bottle of some dark liquor stuffed under her arm.

Immediately and with no pretense, Vi dropped the bag to the floor, set the remaining items on the table, and flew to Caitlyn's side, throwing her arms around her. Caitlyn automatically returned the embrace, still trying to get her emotions in order, and said nothing.

"Don't kill me, Cait," Vi begged into Caitlyn's hair, "I'm so so so so sorry it took me so long." She disengaged and moved far enough back to look Caitlyn in the eye. Try as she might to look penitent, a bright grin kept ruining the effect.

"Welcome home," Caitlyn said, in a much more subdued tone. She wanted to return Vi's cheeriness, wanted to accept the apology at face value, but she found herself unable to rise to the surface with any sort of speed. "Tell me about your day and we'll see about my killing you."

The flatness with which Caitlyn offered the deal succeeded in putting Vi's grin in the grave. "Oh no, you're not mad, are you?" she asked, genuine concern instantly transplanting her playfulness from a moment earlier. "I swear I thought it would only take a couple of hours. I didn't mean to leave you hanging all day, but I couldn't just call up and fill you in, or it would ruin the surprise…." She trailed off, studying Caitlyn's unresponsive expression, at which her own turned even sourer. "I balls'd today right up, didn't I?"

Caitlyn watched as Vi straightened and scooted away, chewing on her thumbnail. Vi reached out and tapped the cardboard box, glancing back over to Caitlyn with such a look of forlorn guilt that it made Caitlyn's mind up for her at last.

"Oh, sweetie," she sighed, reaching across the table for Vi's hand, "I'm not mad at you. Just a little confused, that's all. I called the garage a half hour ago, and Corki denied your existence. Said you were at the station. I called the station and Beckham said you had been and gone." She paused, giving Vi's hand a squeeze, and let it go. "I just wanted to spend the day with you."

The hangdog expression melted from Vi's face, a slow but steady grin creeping to take its place. Her violet eyes sparkled once more from under her bangs, and her fingers drummed against the corner of the box. "Corki," she snorted. "I'll kill him. Want to see what he was helping me with?"

Caitlyn nodded as Vi reached into the box, her curiosity getting the better of her. She was still quiet, but the promise of immediate answers to all her questions helped to lift her mood. "This is the surprise that took so long?"

"Part of it. I didn't have time to wrap it," Vi warned, glancing down to Caitlyn before removing the object from its container.

"I was looking for that!" Caitlyn gasped, staggered.

"It's okay, right?" Vi asked, placing the trap on the table in front of her. "I mean, if you need it, I can get you another one. I just thought this would be really cool."

Caitlyn lifted a hand and brushed a finger along the jaw of the trap. It gleamed far more than the others, having been plated in gold in its entirety. "It's stunning."

"Look, it opens up, too," Vi said, reaching over and pressing a catch on either side of the hinge. "Of course we had to take it all apart to plate the pieces, so it's perfectly safe, it's all hydraulic now. Corki's a wizard at putting stuff back together better than before."

The upper jaw of the trap swung leisurely upward, giving Caitlyn the chance to notice that the bait panel had been replaced as well – the center of the trap now showcased a cupcake-shaped gold-plated plaque with a short engraving:

"'In recognition," Caitlyn read, following the text with a reverent fingertip, "of your ten years of dedicated service as Sheriff of Piltover, tirelessly protecting its citizens and its future.' Did you write this?"

"Yup," Vi assured with a proud bob of her head. "Corki let me use his laser pen! And the batteries that power the electroplating tanks, oh man, they're so awesome. We have to get an electroplating lab, I'm tellin' ya."

Caitlyn let her ramble on about Corki's gadgets for a moment, deciding to wait until another day to tell Vi that "sheriff" had two F's and only one R. Her eyes swept over the trap-turned-trophy, the words finally sinking in. As Vi pointed to some detail the engraving, Caitlyn grabbed her hand and stood.

"I was worried," she blurted, at Vi's questioning look.

"I told you," Vi shook her head, "it won't snap now, we rebuilt it…the…hydraulics?" She finished in puzzlement as Caitlyn stepped close and wrapped her in a powerful hug. "Cait?"

"I was worried you were upset with me," Caitlyn admitted to Vi's shoulder. "Because of how busy I've been with work lately." She laughed once, squeezing Vi with all the affection she could muster.

After a moment Vi laughed, too. "What! No!" She took Caitlyn by the waist and pried her off, holding her at arm's length. "I know I make fun of your cupcakes or whatever, but you're amazing at what you do. You take care of all of us – you take care of _me_." Vi colored faintly and dropped her gaze. "You're really important to me, Caitlyn. I couldn't be upset. The work you do…I love you for it."

Touched, the melancholy of the day well and truly forgotten, Caitlyn cupped Vi's face, brushing her thumb over the numerals. Vi shrugged and rolled her eyes, biting her lip. "Look at me," she said, shy, "I've gone all sappy on you."

Caitlyn shook her head, not wanting Vi to feel embarrassed for expressing her feelings. "Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you for the gift. Thank you for putting up with me."

"Hey," Vi said, "sorry today ended up being a waste. Sorry I made you worry. I think Corki thought you weren't supposed to know I was there? Because of the thing we were doing? I'll give him a hard time about it later."

"No need," Caitlyn smiled. "Remind me to thank him for his fine craftsmanship. And to let Sergeant Beckham know tomorrow that my missing trap isn't missing after all."

"Nope," Vi said, twisting to put an arm around Caitlyn and turning to pull a thick envelope out of the box. She flicked the tab open one-handed, and poured the contents over the surface of the table. Smaller envelopes of all shapes and colors cascaded out in a great papery pile.

Caitlyn let herself be pulled tight to Vi's side, reaching out to sift through the envelopes. "And what are these?"

"The rest of your anniversary gift, from Piltover to you," Vi caroled. "Just because you're great at your job doesn't mean you should spend another ten years working yourself into the ground."

"How do you mean?" Caitlyn asked, picking up an envelope at random and sliding it open. Inside was a card, signed by one of the officers and her family, filled with scrawled congratulations and well-wishes.

"What really took so long today," Vi explained, "was rounding up all these cards. I gave 'em all two months to get them done, but whatever. Basically," she went on, picking up a set of cards and fanning them in her hand, "these are promises from the entire police force to fill in our for our shifts for the entire week, starting today. Get ready to majorly chill out, babe."

Caitlyn plucked another from the pile and read it quickly, starting to feel overwhelmed. "The entire force?"

"Yeah, and Jayce and Ez and the guys worked it out with the Institute, so they'll take our places in the roster. That means no chases, no mysteries, no stake-outs, not even a League match for a solid week. It'll be just you and me, I promise." Vi butted her nose into Caitlyn's cheek, looking up at her with the mother of all too-cute-to-lose faces. "Makes up for today, right?"

With a great sigh, Caitlyn draped her arm around Vi's shoulders, leaning close. "It's a marvelous plan, and I'll be eternally grateful to everyone involved if no one calls us at three in the morning about someone's missing grandma."

"They won't," Vi declared with conviction. "I sat each and every one of them down, and I told them, don't you dare call Caitlyn this week. I don't care if half the city is on fire, or if the entire Noxian army invades, or if all the yordles sprout pixie wings and start flying around throwing fairy dust in people's faces. You can wait to tell her first thing next Monday morning."

Caitlyn put her head back and laughed. "That's what you told them?"

Vi grinned deviously. "That and more. I made Marjorie cry," she said in a tone of deep, deep contentment.

"Enough," Caitlyn snorted, wiping a tear from her eye. "I don't want to hear any more about Marjorie."

"Marjorie who?" Vi agreed, wrapping both her arms around Caitlyn's neck. "It's just us."

Caitlyn nodded, leaning forward to meet Vi in an easy kiss filled with promises. Then she pulled back with a sly smile. "Unquestionably. That is, if by 'us' you mean, you, me, and a certain apron of mine."


End file.
